


World Chaser

by Parzephyr



Category: TWICE (Band)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 23:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20366530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parzephyr/pseuds/Parzephyr
Summary: Weeks prior to this day she had received a message from Mina on her personal travel blog, stating her desire to hire Momo not just to plan an itinerary but to have her and her partner  accompany her as well on her trip, but why would Mina, a fellow employee of Division 3, one of the world's fastest-growing travel companies, hire her when all services the company provides are free to its employees?





	World Chaser

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! As thanks for reaching 1k followers on twitter I've written (with a lot of help from hiraharuhiro) a new story. World Chaser is the start of a new journey for MiMo and their group of friends, are you ready to go with them?

_“Momo…”_

She’s running as she does on most nights, following the fading traces of her name, deep and intangible, through the never-ending landscape of her restless dream.

(It’s more of a nightmare, she’ll remember to amend later, and it never changes.)

It haunts her subconscious, wedging an unwanted pattern in her nights that she’s grudgingly become a mindless puppet to for years now. The sweat and tears mingle, forming a watery sheen on the surface of her skin like the dew on the grass she tramples in her haste to reach the far-off echo; she huffs and pants relentlessly as her legs carry her, stumbling every so often from exhaustion as she moves in tandem with the beats her heart drums in her chest — this dream of hers, it never changes. It never ends.

She’s never been graced by the source of the call; her dream always ends prematurely for her to understand why she’s running towards it, or maybe she was running away from it? She wouldn’t know; she never makes it far, in fact, one morning after, during her foggy recollection, she came to the frustrating realization that all her running had gotten her nowhere. Despite all the effort her dream counterpart puts, she never progresses past the hazy patches of green. It was like running on a treadmill, moving yet stationary.

_“Momo…”_

There it is again, beckoning her to trail after it, and she does. Her heart pumps harder, egging her legs to move faster than they already were. 

”Where are you?” she cries out, her voice hoarse and trembling. ”I-I’m here! I’m coming! _Where are you?_” No response, it falls on deaf ears and her vision waters as her throat tightens. 

“P-please, tell me where you _ahhh—_“ she loses her footing. Instinctively, she brings her arms forward to brace for the impact, but it never arrives. She opens an eye cautiously and sees the impending darkness beneath her as the ground crumbles and swallows her whole. She screams into the void and claws for something, anything to catch her from falling deeper into the dark abyss, but everything dissipates from her grasp, leaving her with nothing but the nauseating sensation of her body and mind plummeting at different speeds. 

Her body lands first...

She gasps loudly, the soreness of her chest burns with every sharp intake of breath, her limbs ache from the crushing pain.

...Her mind joins shortly after. 

The pain feels absolutely real and it’s this fact that agitates her; it brings about a new kind of clarity, and she’s suddenly too aware that everything but the ache radiating throughout her had been nothing but a dream.

“What the—” she wakes with a jolt; her eyes spring open from the new weight that toppled over her. The dream recedes to a memory she’ll revisit another night, but not before it’s supplanted with a doggish smile from the girl laying on top of her.

Unbothered by their position, the other chirps happily at her. “Good morning, Momoring!”

Irritated by the painful and abrupt wake-up call, Momo grunts an undoubtedly snarky reply, “Ugh, it would’ve been.” It’s too early for this, and her eyes have yet to adjust to the blinding light seeping in through the curtains (something she’s sure will pale in comparison to the bright smile that’ll greet her once she refocuses her eyes on her roommate). She heaves a ragged breath, the weight on her presses too much against her body for air to pass comfortably to her lungs.

“Doubt it, it looked like you were having one of those nights; you kept tossing and mumbling things. I could hear you from my room!”

She squirms underneath the body and tries to free her arms pinned between them, a difficult task if you consider the tangled sheets and numbness of her limbs, but she manages to wriggle one out and plants it on the girl’s side.

“You were sweating so much, too, you should probably change your sheets— Ow!” Momo shoves her off the side of the bed once she regained enough feeling in her arm to do so.

“Sana, I say this because you’re my best friend, and I’d be left with no one to talk to,” she sits up slowly and breathes an unobstructed sigh of relief, wincing as a hand rubs a sore spot on her stomach, “don’t ever fucking do that again, _or else_.” It’s not as menacing as she wants it to be because it comes off groggy and somewhat slurred, but she still receives a searing glare from her and she supposes it’s enough.

Sana pouts at her and gathers herself from the floor. “And I thought I was doing you a favor by waking you up.”

“You would’ve slept through your alarm anyways, don’t forget you have to be somewhere in a couple of hours,” she reminds her promptly before taking a seat by the foot of the bed.

“Wait. Don’t tell me you forgot about it!” She questions incredulously at Momo’s cocked head.

Momo lights up and counters, “No! How could I? It’s the only thing I’ve been thinking of for these past two weeks.” She leans against the headboard and chews pensively on her bottom lip, “I’m just unsure about it. What if it’s some kind of scam? It seems kind of fishy; I mean no one’s ever asked us to do this.”

"Could be," Sana adds. "But it's not like you can't walk out of it, doesn't hurt to see if it's real or not."

She nods at her. “They’re offering a lot of money...”

Sana hums knowingly and offers her a soft smile, “We could make a lot of improvements with it.”

“Yeah, maybe we can finally get out of this hellhole.”

Momo eyes the peeling wallpaper of her room if she could even call the repurposed living room that, in areas where’s it’s been stripped of the tacky design, old paint chipped and cracked every which way. She follows a particularly long one that travels along her walls, it passes by the heating system, something else that was just as old and had served no more purpose, then it bends behind her lone dresser, brimming with too many clothes she had no space for, it leads her to her desk where it stops and continues its angry fissures in the form of her phone’s shattered screen, wonderful. Her eyes roam the mountain of clutter sitting on the table: stacks of paper cover the surface, a mug of cold coffee sits next to her laptop, open and most likely dead, now remembering that she had forgotten to turn it off the night before. There’s a spot of yellow on the corner of the black screen; a sticky note curled and scrawled with blue ink to remind her of her plans for the day.

_Café ITZY_

_1 pm_

_Myoui Mina_

There’s something to be said about the rain outside and it’s that Momo absolutely dislikes it, abhors it more than any other weather that passes through Tokyo. It’s the kind that’s preceded by a melancholy of monotonous grays dulling an otherwise vibrant day, caused by dark clouds rolling slowing in the distance until they loom ominously overhead, ripping through the sky with thunder and lightning, and encasing her world in a prison of torrential downpour. 

It’s unlike spring showers which she finds is a welcome substitute to winter’s chilling snowfall, the light pitter-patter overwhelms her with comfort: its sounds, and smells, and crisp breeze signifying the end of a difficult season to live through for her and Sana. But summer storms bare no similarities and it agitates her nerves because it conjures a distorted version of rain in July from years long passed.

What was once a pleasant sound in her ears had now been perverted by a sickening crunch of metal amidst rainfall.

Her nostrils still flare in protest of the distinct and lingering odor that can only be produced by a tentative drizzle’s attempt to wash freshly stamped tire marks from asphalt, failing and drenching it harder with an unforgiving second wave. 

The draft that sneaks into the café is reminiscent of that day’s lonely gust of wind. It makes itself known, nips furiously at her frame, sinks through every layer she wears, and digs under her skin and into her bones, rattling her with a chill that doesn’t subside, doesn’t recede even when she tugs at the sleeves of her sweater, so she picks up her cup and downs the remaining amount of coffee left and lets its warmth settle in her stomach.

That was the second fill of her drink since she arrived and Myoui Mina was still unaccounted for, if the gloomy weather and her client’s absence were setting the tone for an unlucky day then she was surely not looking forward to what else was in store for her. 

She takes a jittery glance at the entrance and sighs heavily. The rain had cleared the streets of people, and the occasional passerby would only come as close to the flower planters outside to take shelter under the awning. 

_No sign of her; maybe she isn’t coming._

“I think your date stood you up, unnie.”

Her ears perk from the intrusion to her thoughts; a youthful, teasing smile blocks her view of the door as the owner takes the seat across from her, sets a plate with a lone slice of red velvet cake down on the table, and inches it closer in her direction.

“It’s not like that, Yuna,” Momo addresses the girl, accepting the second fork to be used to share the dessert.

She had refrained from ingesting anything before coming; her desire to successfully close the deal easily overwhelmed her need to eat, but Café ITZY, the newest branch under South Korea’s popular chain of coffee shops, Soul Cup, had made a name for itself in Japan not only for the quality of their menu items but also for its five owners. Declining Yuna and her offer seem almost sinful, and if Myoui Mina isn’t planning on showing up then she might as well eat.

“So, you’re sighing like you just got dumped for no reason at all?” Yuna arches a thin brow in jest, smiling through her first morsel of the house special.

“First of all, I’m not on a date, therefore I didn’t get dumped,” she grumbles, scooping up a piece of the cake from her side of the plate.

“I’m here to meet someone,” she elucidates simply.

“Oh, that’s mysterious,” Yuna chimes excitedly, leaning forward in wonder of who Momo could be waiting for. “Who’re you meeting?”

“You’re really nosy, you know that?” Momo points the fork at her, “And shouldn’t you be working?”

It’s shrugged off. “I can’t help it if I’m curious; you only ever come here with Sana unnie. Besides, nothing exciting has happened since Yeji unnie put me in charge of this place, and today is—“ Yuna pauses and narrows her sight on the calendar beyond the desserts display counter, “day 6 out of 9 until my sister returns, which means if something doesn’t happen I have nothing to tell Ryujin unnie when she comes back from her vacation, and you know she’s going to brag about it— oh, and by the way, thanks for helping her plan it, unnie, there was no way she could’ve afforded it if you hadn’t helped her. Don’t even get me started on how I was ready to put her on a plane back to Seoul if she didn’t stop whining about how expensive her so-called ‘dream vacation’ was.”

Momo snorts in disbelief, “Yeji actually put you in charge? Over Lia and Chaeryeong?”

“I’m not that bad!” Yuna’s voice shrills in defense, softening at Momo’s apologetic chuckle but admittedly due more from the curious stares thrown at her from the other patrons. 

"Lia unnie's in Canada for some training and Ryeong unnie's too soft-spoken, but enough about me.” Yuna waves off any more small talk on her part and renews her curiosity. “Aren’t you gonna tell me who you’re meeting?” 

Momo finishes the last bite of the cake and leans back into her seat. Talking to Yuna eased her worries immensely, and the topic felt much easier to broach than it had been earlier. 

She pushes on, casually and full of lightness, “Her name’s Myoui Mina. She’s one of my clients.”

“Ah! Mina unnie?” Yuna’s smile beams brightly at her. “I know her,” like a kid in a candy store, Momo muses. 

“You do?”

“_You don’t? _She works at the same company as you.”

Her brows knit together, “At Division 3? I’ve never heard of her before...”

It's not all that surprising to admit her lack of awareness of the people in her workplace. It's not that she didn't care to form any sort of relationship with her coworkers, her previous migratory lifestyle just taught her that it's difficult getting to know someone when you only stay in one place for a short amount of time; that and Division 3's employee count reached well over hundreds maybe even a few thousands of people around the world. Knowing everyone in the company, let alone the Tokyo branch she works in, is simply too impossible of a feat.

“I guess that makes sense; she carries an ID badge around but I’ve never seen her wear the same uniform as yours.”

“She probably works in a different department.” That’s probably the case, Momo thinks, but it still doesn’t make any sense to her.

Weeks prior to this day she had received a message from Mina on her personal travel blog, stating her desire to hire Momo not just to plan an itinerary that consisted of visiting locations “known for their magical and/or natural healing properties” but to have her and her partner (likely referring to Sana) accompany her as well on her trip, of which all expenses would be paid for, and on their return, her services would be compensated with an amount that had Momo staggering and raising her brows at the legitimacy of Mina's proposal. All in all, it intrigued her, more so now that Yuna let slip a small yet largely confounding detail about her client. 

Why would Mina, a fellow employee of Division 3, one of the world's fastest-growing travel companies, hire her when all services the company provides are free to its employees?

Granted, Momo _is _one of its many travel agents, but that fact hadn’t been mentioned in their string of emails, and even if Mina had known of her occupation, contact outside of Division 3’s private network would have been unnecessary, as business would have been conducted through their company.

_None of it adds up..._

“Hn? What’d you say, unnie?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s nothing I—”

A damp breeze invades the cozy space, and she folds over, interrupted by a shiver.

The hanging chimes of the door that had let it rush in clang to welcome a new guest and her attention immediately deviates from the cold to the newcomer when Yuna sharply stands, “Mina unnie!”

Mina?

“Hello,” The girl confirms her identity, continuing the exchange, confusion laces her shy greeting as the café owner guides her to Momo’s table.

“I kept Momo unnie occupied until you came.”

Momo looks at her and they swap mirrored looks of embarrassment from Yuna’s bluntness.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry. I’ve kept you waiting, haven’t I?”

Mina takes Yuna’s off-handed comment at her lateness as her cue to politely offer an apologetic bow to Momo, an action that’s returned, albeit carrying an anxious air to it, juxtaposing the composed one she receives.

“Your usual?” Yuna inquires once Mina settles herself across Momo.

“Yes, just an americano for today.”

A dismal Yuna groans, “Aww c’mon, unnie, you have to say the name properly.”

Momo stiffens and gives an inconspicuous glance at Mina, pulling back just as quickly to pointedly leer at Yuna — as popular as the café is for their products, they’re also notorious for their eccentric names, and Momo can see right through the mischievous stunt, that is Yuna conspiring to embarrass the newest arrival.

Momo hisses her name.

Mina shakes her head at her with timid willingness, “It’s alright,” she pacifies with a shy giggle, much to their server’s delight, “I’ll have an Amirohcano,” she affirms loud enough to be heard only by the two (Momo reflexively groans at the unusually named drink.)

“You got it!” Yuna grins proudly and bounds off, leaving them to discuss the matter of their meeting.

“Sorry about that.” Momo surrenders a penitent sigh.

Mina is quick to refuse. “No, no. It’s fine, really.”

“Yuna can be quite—”

“She’s just being—”

“—playful.” The synchronous assertion flusters her, and Mina laughs softly. It’s this minuscule act that drives Momo to look at her and flit her eyes imperceptibly along her gentle facial features. She starts where the endearing sound of her laughter emerges, follows the alluring constellation around her mouth to the end where the last fleck rests along the bridge of her nose. Her eyes crinkle in joy, summarily, the dark brown disappears behind slender digits as her hand sweeps her bangs aside. There’s no doubting her beauty.

“You must really know her.”

She trails the pattern of her blazer's long sleeve and examines the clean-cut and material ("_It looks like it costs more than I make in a year.”) _Momo withdraws her gaze and shrinks in embarrassment, hiding her incomparably plain and reasonably priced outfit. “Yeah…”

“I used to frequent this café as a university student when it was still based in Seoul.” Momo looks absentmindedly at the busy barista preparing Mina’s drink, Yuna catches her gaze and gives a sheepish smile, finishing up and coming around the counter to their table. “She was just as high-spirited back then as she is now.”

“Ah, that’s right. Your blog mentioned that you spent some time in Korea.”

Momo nods in affirmation, recalling that she had indeed included her time, with pictures and a condensed summary of her life in South Korea, on her travel blog. “It was a quick stint. I studied Geography and Tourism for a while, but I grew disinterested sitting around, listening to lectures. I figured I could learn more from first-hand experience so I left.”

“That’s very admirable of you. My father wouldn’t have appreciated a move as...” Mina pauses, due in part to Yuna setting her drink down in front of her — she gives a mannerly smile after picking it back up and taking her first cautious sip of the hot liquid — and to contemplate an appropriate word that will deliver her feelings effectively and without offense; not that the initial response that popped up in her head held any insult, to begin with, but Momo mistakenly thinks otherwise and replies dejectedly.

“Stupid?”

She shakes her head calmly, quelling her urge to correct her with more forceful reassurance than necessary, “..._bold_as yours had I been in your shoes. He’s far too stern, and logical and lacks an adventurous spirit to understand, or even support this little project of mine.”

“You, however, are the opposite; you’re exactly who I needed.” Mina boldly proclaims.

“I... I am?” It takes Momo aback, receiving such a compliment as highly as the one Mina gave her.

"Absolutely. I heard you're quite knowledgeable when it comes to this subject, and our previous exchanges, minimal as they may have been, have done nothing but support those claims."

“I-I’m flattered, I really am. This is just a hobby of mine...” Momo shies away, directing her attention from the girl to her lap where her fingers twitch and grip the fabric of her jean-clad knees. Rather than inflating her, the praise felt almost all too unbearable on her part. Never did she pride herself in her abilities, finding them too awkward and ordinary for any sort of veneration, and for someone like Mina, whose elegance left her feeling outclassed the moment she appeared, and an overwhelming presence beneath the subtleties of manicured nails and an impeccable posture – one she emulates unconsciously – she feels too undeserving and small under the gleam of her eyes as she continuously lays down brick after brick of admiration around her self-esteem.

“And it’s a hobby you excel in; which led me to arrange this meeting with you. I just had to see how good you are.”

The meeting... of course! They’ve yet to discuss the true reason why they were both here.

“Oh, right! It almost slipped my mind,” Momo opens her bag, rifling through the disarray of bills and personal effects with as much care as she can apply as to not mar the particular matter tucked inside that Mina had come to discuss.

Delicately, she pulls out a thin binder; the colored tabs jutting out from one side tell Mina that its contents have been carefully organized for her convenience.

She accepts it from Momo and opens it in subdued wonder.

“These are the finalized itinerary and booking details; I changed the airlines per your request, and excluded the fourth location to better accommodate rest between long travel periods; don’t worry, I did some research and it’s not as important as the others. I included an estimate of daily expenses as well so you can grasp how much each stop will cost in comparison to one another – it’ll allow you to adjust your spending as you please. They’re based on the current exchange rates of each country we’re visiting – the chart should be on the fourth page. And I was able to call up a buddy of mine in Thailand, she offered free lodging while we’re there, that is if you’re willing to participate in the soft opening of her themed residences, but it’s totally fine if you aren’t. I listed alternatives down below — I recommend the first option, which is more budget-friendly, but the second is closer to where we're going, it's costly but it's very convenient. And I…" 

The stillness and inadequacy of input from Mina alarm Momo that she had gone off on a one-sided discourse, "I'm talking too much. Sorry, I got too excited." She coughs awkwardly, permitting Mina to take it as an indication of the end of her commentary.

Momo looks expectantly at her, waiting for Mina to fill the soundless void between them, but her heart palpitates loudly, having gone unnoticed amidst the flurry of her words until now, and it stifles the silence in the air instead.

“This is...” Momo’s heart jumps to her throat with one strong beat; her mouth dries as she waits for Mina to continue, “...amazingly thorough.”

She smothers a relieved sigh, watching Mina’s face light up as she scans the binder in her hands.

“With what you’re paying me it has to be.” It’s mind-boggling how she can joke openly in spite of the heart attack she almost sustained but Mina doesn’t seem to mind anyway, and giggles at her expense.

"It's planned with everything I had in mind and then some." Her client looks on; each flip of the pages in her hold elicits an enthused comment that Momo's eager to absorb and supply an equally thrilling response to. "I never would’ve thought to combine these promos but they work perfectly well together.”

"I'm glad you think so." Maybe it wasn't so wrong to accept a compliment now and then.

Mina looks upward from the papers, stringing her words together in awe, “I almost hate to admit it but your service exceeds that of any travel company I’ve ever used.”

In her musings, the thought comes back to Momo with steadfast intensity; she recognizes it — a strand of interest weaving tightly around her words. Mina works at Division 3 — that much is the only thing she knows about her — and her profound persistence intends to shed some light on the vexing information about the unforthcoming girl.

It’s been eating at her curiosity despite not occupying the forefront of her mind in this time that she’s spent talking to Mina; she needs clarification even if it sounds invasive. “That reminds me, Yuna mentioned you work—”

_Ring ring_

She curses her luck and marvels at the idea that there’s some higher being watching them, intent on tormenting her for their amusement because just as quickly as she was about to complete her query, it’s thwarted swiftly by the incessant ringing of Mina’s phone. “Sorry, I’m expecting a call from my boss; I have to take this.” Mina places her bag on the table and fishes out her cellphone with ease.

(“_She looks like the type of person that organizes the inside of her bags.”)_

Momo watches her unsuccessfully start a conversation; the other end of Mina’s call not answering her three ‘hello’s’ and a quizzical glance at the unresponsive line leads her to her only conclusion. “I think the storm’s interfering with my signal, do you mind if I—”

“No, go ahead!” Momo aligns her thoughts with Mina’s, and with an approving nod, allows her to stand posthaste, phone pressed to her ear, to find a location where her call can be fairly supported. 

In minutes when it becomes apparent that going outside is Mina’s best option, Yuna passes her by on her way to the door to come around to replace her, plopping down with interest coating her voice. “Sooo,” she prolongs, singsong. “How’s it going?”

“I think it’s going pretty well,” Momo gleefully replies, “Mina needs to give her approval but with the way things are going it looks like I can close the deal soon.”

“That’s great, unnie!” Yuna reacts just as cheerfully from the news, “It sounded like you’re going with her. You better bring back souvenirs for me.”

Momo chuckles. “Yeah, sure.”

At that moment Yuna chooses to teasingly shift the topic, looking towards the exit where a visible Mina is still on her phone. She turns to Momo and lowers her voice, “You know, from where I was watching it looked like you two were getting along.”

“Hn, me and Mina? Yeah, I guess so. She seems nice.”

“Nice? That wasn’t what I was implying about the two of you.” A coy grin plasters itself on Yuna’s face.

“She’s my _client_,” she stresses, realizing the other’s insinuation.

Yuna waggles her brows. “There’s room to be something more.”

Momo scoffs and casts aside the idea, “Not a chance. I barely even know her.”

“You’ve been single since the dawn of man, unnie. I think it’s time you get yourself a girlfriend.”

“This is coming from someone who’s just as single as I am.”

“I’ll have you know that I have regular customers that come during my shift just to be near me.”

“Oh, well, that’s not creepy at all," Momo mumbles a dry riposte. "Is one of those ‘regulars' that guy over there?" She nods her chin towards the counter where a man stood idly confused, waiting for someone to take his order.

“Whoops, duty calls. This conversation’s not over, by the way.” Yuna dramatically sighs, rising from her seat to return to her post. But in her true fashion, as Momo had come to realize that the younger girl shared Sana’s inclination of accidentally knocking objects over— from an absence of spatial awareness or otherwise, at this point she thinks it’s her talent— her apron latches onto one of the decorative loops that make up the handle of Mina's handbag and brings it crashing to the floor.

An _‘oops’_from Yuna blends with the cacophony of _thuds _and _clacks_(she winces at the myriad of sounds) as Mina’s bag pours out its contents, littering the café with an assortment of health and beauty products, a book, and a peculiar folder that Yuna mistakenly assumes is hers.

“Oh, I dropped something of yours, too, unnie.”

Yuna concludes her speedy cleanup and issues an apology to relay to Mina before rushing to tend to the bemused customer (_‘Sorry, unnie. I’ll come back to explain everything when Mina unnie comes back.’_)

It didn’t quite reach her fully because her attention had become gripped by a photo attached to the front flap of the folder, now understanding Yuna’s misconception that it belongs to her.

The image is familiar, in fact, she knows it well. It’s a photograph of her and Sana from their trip to Hawaii, easily found with a few clicks on her blog.

Mina’s effortless procurement of it doesn’t surprise her, but what she does find disconcerting is the ghastly writings defacing the surface of the snapshot memory of her and her best friend. Last year, when she and Sana took that photo in Oahu, it would’ve never crossed her to think that it would be used to paint such an incriminating and harmful picture of them, but now her past is trembling in her hands and it’s smiling innocently, unbeknownst of the black ink encircled furiously around her face, and the disorderly notes, uncharacteristic of the neat image she has of Mina, embellishing the negative spaces of the worn printout.

Her head is spinning. What is this?

(_“Hey, Sana, let’s take a picture together.”) _DIV 3 hacker

(_“Aim it this way, I want the beach in the background.”_) Friend/Accomplice

Motive unknown…

INVESTIGATE FURTHER

She feels sick.

_Fuck._

**Author's Note:**

> That's the end of the first chapter! Leave a comment, I accept moans, groans, gripes, complaints, and more! Haru and I will be on twitter, check us out @parzephyr and @hiraharuhiro.


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